by S. D. Perry
"I think there always has been and always will be people who will uphold their ideals, no matter what--just as there are people who are weak, who will fold when the pressure gets to be too much," she said, looking into his eyes as she spoke. "But I also think that there are those who eventually come to believe that it's not as simple as all that, that there are complexities to be considered beyond black and white, right and wrong. People who start to see that purity of purpose is an illusion. A cloak, really ... a moralistic disguise, that can actually end up jeopardizing the very ideals they seek to uphold."
She smiled faintly, but not with any reason that he could tell. "It can create quite a paradox, if you think about it--is it wrong to compromise your beliefs in order to preserve them?"
That the question was rhetorical was a relief; Kirk didn't know how to respond, didn't know if she was talking about herself, or openly philosophizing, or expressing serious convictions about morality ... but he was sure that they'd wandered on to separate tracks. If one had to compromise his own beliefs in order to preserve them, then the beliefs were flawed somehow ... or the person was.
Jain grinned suddenly, shaking her head. "Listen to me. I'm sorry, I guess that wasn't particularly helpful."
Her smile turned apologetic. "That call a moment ago was something of a summons, I'm afraid. The man I've been working with has an important panel in an hour or so, and I promised to help him prepare."
"I'll walk back with you," Kirk said, disappointed but doing his best to mask it. They'd had such a fine day together, he didn't want it to be over with.
Jain seemed to feel the same way. "If you've got some free time later, maybe we can have dinner... or something?"
Being asked out by a beautiful woman was something he could definitely get used to. "I think that can be arranged," he said, smiling.
Together, they left the lounge, Kirk already looking forward to later ... but he couldn't entirely forget her strange question, or the faint, cheerless smile she'd worn as she asked it--and he realized that he wanted to know who she was more than ever, where she came from, what she did. He'd have to charm her into a few solid answers over dinner... or something, as the case might be.
In all, a most engaging day. Spock reflected over the fascinating itinerary of the summit's second day as he and the captain took seats in the back of the large assembly room, people filing in all around them for the highly anticipated future technologies panel. First, upon arriving, the discussion of energy probabilities in subspace and approaches to discovery. Spock had read several studies on the implementation of strata pulse-testing, but had by no means been convinced that the results would be scientifically sound. From the solid, logical approach of the key speaker to the subject, however, and the well thought out responses from his co panelists Spock was strongly considering a change of opinion. By opting to leave early in the discussion, the captain had missed a thoroughly captivating aggregation of viewpoints.
Afterward, Spock had briefly vacillated between attending an open debate over harnessing soli ton waves or a lecture on perpetuality by Delias of Tiburon. Soliton wave potential was a particular interest of his, but Delias was renowned for her powerful and innovative discourses, and seldom appeared before an audience. He had therefore chosen to hear Delias, and had not been disappointed.
From the lecture, he had planned to attend the dilithium-enhancement discussion, but had ended up in a lengthy conversation with Seren of Vulcan in the corridor outside. Spock had taken note of his own high visibility within the conference, the nods and glances from many of the attendants--the three most likely reasons being his heritage, his past receipt of a Vulcanian science award, and his singular position in Starfleet. It was for the latter that Seren had approached him, to say that his own younger sibling was considering a career in Starfleet, and to ask about Spock's experiences. The conversation had evolved through several fascinating topics thereafter, including non-Federation technology and a panel that Spock had missed by the Enterprise's late arrival, but which Seren had attended, regarding X-ray singularities. There was some slim evidence that the Romulans were turning their attention to the potentially powerful energy source, which lent the possibility more credibility than it had earlier commanded.
The conversation had ended as the dilithium discussion let out, and a most excited Mr. Scott had insisted that they lunch together. Spock had enjoyed their meeting; the engineer lacked the focus of logic, but had been extremely detailed with his own thoughts and projections about the panel he'd attended, enthusiastically expressing his wide knowledge of starship propulsion systems and a number of related subjects.
The afternoon was filled by another lecture, this one on the possibilities of holographic technology; a round-table discussion about the role of science in sociological advancements; and an open discussion on progressions in tachyon communication theory, about which Spock was invited to speak. The captain had attended the last half of the discussion, expressing great pleasure with Spock's contribution when they met afterward. "Mr. Spock, you almost make me understand it," he'd said, smiling. A great compliment, indeed.
They'd walked together to the future technology panel, the captain choosing seats in the back of the room; as the room filled, his actions suggested that he was searching the crowd for a particular person, his head turning repeatedly, his attention directed and constantly moving.
"Captain, are you expecting to meet someone here?" Spock asked. "If so, perhaps I can help you locate the individual in question. There are eight hundred seats here, and an expectation that all will be filled--"
"Thank you, Mr. Spock, that won't be necessary. She's ... she's pretty hard to miss," he replied, still scanning the assembling group.
Ah. Perhaps the captain's earlier absence was due to an involvement with a female companion. Spock would not presume to say, although based on past observations, such an assumption would not be illogical.
"There she is."
The captain stood and stepped out into the aisle, his focus on a humanoid woman who had just entered the room. From her flamboyant clothing, Spock had to agree with the captain's earlier assessment.
The woman joined them as the audience began to settle, the first of the panelists moving up onto the raised platform at the front of the room. Spock stood to greet her.
"Dr. Jain Suni, this is my first officer, Mr. Spock."
"A pleasure, Doctor," Spock said politely. "The pleasure is mine," Dr. Suni replied, nodding in turn. "I read your secondary thesis on charm quark anomalies. Great material."
Before he could respond, the captain pointed out that the panel was about to begin, and the three of them took their seats.
There were six Starfleet scientists on the panel, all well established within their respective fields. Spock had read all of them, although two had stopped publishing in recent years--Dr. Lansing, a researcher in biomechanics, and Dr. Kettaract, a molecular physicist. Of the other four, two were mathematicians, one a geneticist, one a chemical engineer. Dr. Lansing had been chosen as moderator.
Each panelist was introduced, Lansing giving a brief synopsis of each doctor's body of work before opening a general conversation, asking what technological advancements within the Federation could be foreseen for the immediate future and speculation for a century beyond.
As Spock had expected, Dr. Woodmansey spoke first, a geneticist known for his egotism and verbosity. He projected several medical breakthroughs concerning neurological function in the next two decades, theorizing that telekinetic energies might one day provide an inexhaustible source of power. The chemical engineer, Dr. Walse, asked several informed questions, moving the discussion toward exciting new developments in fusion theory. One of the mathematicians brought up Julia set fractal geometry, and Dr. Lansing steered the conversation toward amplification of cellular decay kinetics. It was proving to be an intense and enlightening discussion, the audience quiet, entranced ... until Dr. Kettaract began to speak.
The molecular
physicist, a tall, thin, human male in his late middle age, had remained silent throughout the gentle debate, a brooding look on his face. Spock seemed to recall that Kettaract had been involved in some minor scientific controversy at the beginning of his career, and it appeared that he was determined to continue on his illustrious path.
"All this talk is fine and good," Kettaract began, his thin tone implying otherwise, "but I think we need to talk about now--not what the Federation is capable of, or what we're working on, but what the Klingons are working on. What the Romulans are working on. Because as sure as we sit here, talking about possibilities, talking about incremental steps into the future, they are out there making it happen. And they're making it happen so that they can destroy us, make no mistake. Anyone who doesn't see that is a fool."
A shocked murmur ran through the assembly, the other panelists wearing expressions of irritation, dismay, surprise. Kettaract's aggressive behavior was highly improper for the setting, both disrespectful and inflammatory.
Dr. Lansing made an attempt to refocus attention to the topic. "I'm sure we all understand that the Federation has its enemies, but this is not a political forum. I believe that summit is being held elsewhere."
Laughter fluttered through the audience, but a note of tension ran through it. Lansing continued, making a solid effort to placate the disruptive doctor. "Dr. Kettaract, perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts on advancements in your own field."
"I apologize if I've been rude," Kettaract said, shaking his head. "But I feel quite strongly that we must address the nature of the environment in which we exist. The Federation is a primarily peaceful community, dedicated to learning, to advancements in science and culture--but we don't operate in a vacuum. And while we're looking for ways to progress, our enemies are looking for a strategic edge. Look at the Romulans--they've been spending their time making improvements to their cloaking technology. And they already have a trade alliance with the Klingons; how long do you think it will be before the first cloaked battle cruiser strikes?"
"What would you propose, Doctor?" Wood mansey sneered.
Lansing was on her feet. "Gentlemen, please--"
"I propose that we stop wasting our time on the inconsequential, on what might be, and start working toward insuring that the Federation will still be here in the future," Kettaract said loudly, his voice rising. "I propose that the Federation's scientific community starts taking a longer view, that we start worrying about how to maintain our superiority as a galactic power!"
People in the audience were standing, arguing, some of them shouting for Kettaract to be removed, others applauding. Dr. Walse left the platform as Lansing stood helplessly, her attempts to bring order frustrated. Not that it mattered; the majority of the assembled scientists had stopped watching the panel, either leaving the room or openly debating among themselves.
"Fascinating," Spock said. He remained in his seat, watching Dr. Kettaract continue his militant rant to members of the audience who had gathered at the base of the platform, offering their own opinions. Spock decided to approach Kettaract when the atmosphere calmed, curious about the evolution of his views.
The captain was also watching the debacle, his eyes narrowed in obvious disapproval--but next to him, Dr. Suni had the fingertips of both hands pressed to the sides of her head, a look of disbelief in her wide eyes. She immediately confirmed her feelings aloud.
"I don't believe it. How could he?"
"You know him?" The captain asked, nodding toward Kettaract.
The doctor sighed heavily. "Bendes Kettaract? Yes, I know him. We came here together; he's the Starfleet scientist I've been working with."
Chapter Eight
Engineering technician Joanna Celaux had been promising Chekov a chess match for a few weeks, but their schedules had not permitted it. Just as he got off a shift, she was going on, and vice versa. Very complicated ... and also, she had been dating a noncom science technician, some stony-faced dullard named Alec or Alex, he couldn't remember exactly. A decent man, but terribly uninteresting and Chekov knew for a fact that their relationship was not serious, he'd had it from a good source. If he could just arrange one chess game, just one, he was certain that he could impress Joanna into another ... and then, who knew?
These were the things that Chekov was thinking as he wandered the lower decks, looking for the lovely Miss Celaux. Well, that and a good excuse for his presence in the engineering sections of the ship. He wouldn't want her to think that he had nothing better to do, although in truth, he didn't. With the Enterprise sitting perfectly still outside the space station, a number of systems had been transferred over to the computer; only one person was needed to watch the helm, and he had traded shifts with Sulu so that he might catch Joanna before she went off of hers.
He was mentally trying out something casual-Joanna, hello, I was just in the neighborhood to check a relay--when he walked past an open computer maintenance room and heard someone muttering angrily from inside. Chekov could only make out the words damn and blast, but it was enough. He stopped, curious as to what Dr. McCoy was doing in engineering.
The doctor was sitting with his back to the door, hunched over a computer monitor, still cursing quietly to himself as Chekov walked into the room.
"Dr. McCoy?"
The doctor started, then turned around with a look of perfect irritation. "What is it, Ensign? Can't you see I'm busy?"
Chekov backed up a step, raising his hands. "My apologies, Doctor. I was walking by, and heard you--saying something, that's all. Excuse me."
He turned to leave, but McCoy apparently hadn't finished with him yet. "Why are you skulking around down here, anyway? Don't you have anything better to do?"
Chekov turned back, shrugging. "I was just checking a relay. Sir."
McCoy stared at him, a thoughtful look coming over his scowling face. Chekov waited, wondering if Joanna's shift was over already. He hoped not. "Mr. Chekov ..." the doctor said finally, "didn't you tell me the other day that you could find people? With a computer?"
Chekov raised his head proudly. "Yes, sir. If they exist anywhere, I can find them. It's in my blood, you know."
"So I've heard," McCoy said. "I've been trying to track down an old friend of mine... a lady friend ... and I'm not getting anywhere. This is totally unofficial, of course, I'm hoping to avoid any paperwork, or any talk about it--"
Another man searching for love. "Say no more, Doctor. In the words of the great Russian politician Busdeyanov, "I'm the man for the job." "
McCoy nodded. "I always wondered who started that. So, how long do you think something like this might take?"
"How long has your friend been missing?"
"Two years."
"She's in Starfleet?"
"No ... but she's a doctor, a research scientist."
Chekov thought about it, then nodded firmly. "Two days. Three, at most."
McCoy scowled anew. "That long? What are you going to do, send out postcards?"
Awfully touchy for someone asking a favor-though Chekov supposed he could understand. Love made men crazy.
And if Dr. McCoy hasn't seen his lady friend for two years, it's no wonder.
"As I said before, I have a few connections--but it may take some time for them to get back to me, that's all," Chekov said. He actually only had one connection, the younger brother of a friend's friend who happened to work in a Federation records office, and it had been at least a year since they'd last spoken, but Chekov saw no reason that the doctor should know that; chances were good that he'd be able to find McCoy's friend by himself, anyway, and within and hour or two. Most Russians were just naturally computer-savvy, and he was no exception.
"Oh. I see," McCoy said uncertainly. He stood and pulled a data chip out of the console he'd been sitting at, walking over to hand it to him. "Well, here's all the information I have. You won't tell anyone about this ..."
Chekov was wounded. "Of course not, sir. A man's private affairs are his own
business ... particularly when there's a lady involved."
McCoy coughed, looking away. "Yes, well. You'll come to me as soon as you have anything?"
"You can count on it, Doctor."
The older man stood for another moment, slightly red in the face. When he spoke, it was nearly a mumble. "I, ah, appreciate this, Mr. Chekov."
"Don't even mention it, sir. I know you'd do the same for me." He didn't, actually, but it seemed like the comradely thing to say.
McCoy coughed again, nodded, and quickly left the room.
Proud to be of service, Chekov pocketed the chip--and realized that he now had the perfect excuse to be in engineering. He could tell Joanna that he was helping a friend... no, that he was instrumental in an investigation to help a friend ... an officer friend ... in a matter of utmost importance. A priority matter, about which he'd been sworn to secrecy. Alec or Alex the boring lab technician couldn't possibly compete.
Chekov grinned, images of Joanna's admiring gaze clear in his mind. He patted the chip and went to find her, new hope blooming in his heart like a delicate Russian rose.
As the last of the audience filed out of the conference room, Suni decided that Bendes could go it without her for a little while. How many times had she told him not to get carried away, that there was a time and place for everything? Had he listened? Obviously not. He'd embarrassed himself and her, selfishly spouting off without a thought in his head but how right he was. He was a brilliant scientist, true enough, but the rest of him could stand a major overhaul.
Suni turned to Jim. "I don't want to see him right now. Let's get out of here, I need a drink."
The captain nodded, standing as she did, his first officer doing the same. "I don't blame you. Mr. Spock, would you care to join us?"
Suni could hear a note of reluctance in Jim's invitation, and either Spock heard it, too, or he had other plans. "No, Captain, but thank you. Dr. Suni..."
The half Vulcan nodded politely at her. She shot him a brief smile, then turned and walked quickly toward the exit, wanting out before Bendes spotted her among the rapidly waning crowd. After a few words with his first officer, Jim hurried to catch up to her.